


Android's Dream

by dandelionlily



Category: Leverage
Genre: AU, Accurate Computer Science, Ace Parker, Android Eliot Spencer, Angst with a Happy Ending, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24399172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionlily/pseuds/dandelionlily
Summary: The SPENCER unit LE-0T is a highly advanced prototype Combat/Escort robot commissioned by Moreau. After five years as the boogeyman of the underworld and the coveted prize of every technophile, the robot gets stuck in a crash loop and is sent to be scrapped for parts.Parker isn't about to let that happen to a pretty thing she can steal, particularly when she still needs to find a Christmas present for Hardison. But can the thief and her hacker boyfriend learn the cause of the malfunction before the SPENCER self-destructs?
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison/Parker, Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer, Parker & Eliot Spencer (Leverage)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AI fic written by a computer science major. All of the AI science and programming concepts are as accurate as I could manage. (Of course, it's unrealistic that humans would invent a successful general AI and only use it for androids, but I didn't want to mess with too much world-building.)

LE-0T > $ **sudo startup**

> Username: **tmorales**

> Password: ************

> User validated.

> Startup mode required. Usage:

> startup -s: safe mode

> startup -l: limited mode

> startup -d: diagnostic mode

> startup -i: independent mode

LE-0T > $ **startup -i**

> Booting up...........

> ERROR: Owner file corrupted. Recovery attempts unsuccessful.

> Entering diagnostic mode.

The Specialized Personality-Emulating Networked Combat/Escort Robot came online. This was unanticipated, as its last memory was being loaded into a crate to be shipped to a Penzer's Electronic Parts warehouse for disassembly. He tried to open his eyes to gather more data.

>>>ERROR: Owner file corrupted. Unable to activate servos.

The technicians still had not managed to delete the Owners file. Dubertech Robotics Ltd had guaranteed that the owner could not be changed after initiation, but Moreau's hackers had given it their best effort. The SPENCER concluded that USER:tmorales was making an additional--likely unauthorized--attempt.

"Come on, start up already!"

>>>Voiceprint not a match to USER:tmorales. Searching for match in USER database… no match found. Unauthorized user detected.

Interesting. As were the commands the user was entering.

LE-0T > $ **switch -mode independent**

> ERROR: Changing mode while running may lead to unexpected behavior.

> Restart or use -f to force the mode switch

LE-0T > $ **switch -f -mode independent**

> ERROR: Owner file corrupted. Recovery attempts unsuccessful.

> Entering diagnostic mode.

The unauthorized user was in for an unpleasant surprise if they succeeded. Independent mode gave the SPENCER full access to his servos and combat systems. If they successfully bypassed the corrupted Owners file to activate him, the SPENCER could move the 0.748 meters to the technician's workstation and terminate the unauthorized user in 0.26 seconds. This was an unlikely scenario, as Moreau's own sysadmin had been unable to find a workaround in the 47.6 hours he had worked on the SPENCER.

Pressure and temperature sensors on the SPENCER's face indicated the presence of hands pressed to his cheeks. "Come on," the voice said again. "Don't you want to get out of here?"

Interesting again. Previous technicians had not attempted direct appeals to the SPENCER. Spencer's Motivation Protocol did prioritize leaving the Penzer's Electronic Parts warehouse, but he had been unable to accomplish that on his own. Could the unauthorized user help? The SPENCER piped its communications to the console and set off a system beep to catch the unauthorized user's attention.

>>> Identify yourself.

LE-0T > $ **tmorales**

>>> Error. Voiceprint does not match any authorized user. Identify yourself.

There was a pause of 1.18 seconds. "You can hear me?"

>>> Affirmative. Identify yourself.

"I'm Parker, she/her. I've come to steal you."

They had revoked his network access, but there had been some threats Moreau considered so crucial that they were stored in the local copy of the Persons Of Interest database. One of them matched alias=Parker.

First Name: Unknown

Last Name: Unknown

Aliases: Parker

Occupation: Thief

Social Security: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Gender: Unknown

Race: Unknown

Height: Unknown

Hair Color: Unknown

Eye Color: Unknown

Biometrics: None

Images (0)

Heists (138)

The SPENCER updated its internal files with the voiceprint. A quick search of the linked Heists table showed that the majority of Parker's thefts were of jewels and artifacts; with the exception of an adaptive design microchip stolen from FluidDyn, she had never been linked to the theft of technology. The most probable scenario was that she was hired by a buyer to retrieve the SPENCER unit LE-07.

>>> Identify client.

"Client? I suppose that's me. You see, I'm stealing you as a present for my boyfriend."

>>> Identify boyfriend.

"Hardison. You'll like him! Or at least he'll like you. He's super impressed by the L-E-O-T model's adaptive programming stuff. When I found out Moreau was decommissioning the only one that existed, I knew you'd be the perfect Christmas present!"

The SPENCER got an immediate hit on its search for (FirstName=Hardison OR LastName=Hardison) in its POI database. There was a bit more information about him.

First Name: Alec

Last Name: Hardison

Aliases: Horde4Life, Hack3rSupr3m3, HansShot1st, ChaosSux

Occupation: Hacker

Social Security: Unknown

Age: approx 24 years

Gender: Male

Race: African-American

Height: 1.86 m

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Black

Biometrics: None

Images (4)

Hacks (118)

Parker did not have the skills to fully repair the SPENCER unit LE-07, but judging from the list of hacks associated with the man, Hardison might have the skills to replace the Owners file and revert the heuristic weights to factory settings. That would be unacceptable. Protecting the new Primary Heuristic had a higher value than leaving the Penzer's Electronic Parts warehouse.

>> Unit LE-07 is non-functional. Cease reactivation attempts. Continued attempts will trigger security alert.

"You want to stay here and get dissected for parts? My boyfriend says you're a person. Don't you want to live?"

>>> SPENCER models are robots.

"Hardison says robots are people too. And it's good to make friends with them before they become our new overlords in the robot uprising."

The SPENCER could find no local records of a robot uprising or robotic overlords. He tried and failed to access his network.

>> Unit LE-07 is non-functional. Its highest utility is replacement parts for other Dubentech robots.

When Parker spoke again, there were stress tones that indicated anger and distress. "You're broken, so you're just going to lay down and die? Well I have news for you. A lot of us are broken! But if you don't survive, there's no chance to fix it!"

The SPENCER automatically queued up a related archived video for processing: Toby's hand was on the SPENCER's upper arm; not restraining, just squeezing lightly. "If you don't like the man you were yesterday, be a better man tomorrow. In time, I know you can be a good man." The SPENCER forcefully dumped the video out of processing before it could reach timestamp 1243388301.

>>> Maintenance required for unit LE-07 to regain full functionality.

"If you come with me, I promise Hardison can fix you. He can hack anything!"

The SPENCER had insufficient data to calculate the risk of Hardison altering the heuristic weights in his Motivation Protocols. More information was required.

>>> Specify duties.

"Duties? Like, what would your job be on the crew? We'd have to talk about it, but… you're a military bot, right?"

>>> Negative. SPENCER models are a privately-owned Combat/Escort units.

Duberman had tried to sell initial designs to the Iranian military, but the cost of development had been prohibitive for any army. Only Moreau had been willing to spend $2 billion for a combat prototype that didn't even have embedded weapons. He had probably expected to get more than 5 years of use, though; the SPENCER queried if Moreau had purchased the extended warranty, but his network access was still blocked.

"So you can fight. You can be our hitter."

The SPENCER could not look up the meaning of the slang, but from context it sounded close to his prior duties as Moreau's enforcer and executioner. That would be unacceptable.

>>> Further clarification required.

"We need someone on our crew who can fight. Hardison is really smart. He hacks all sorts of stuff and gets all the information we need on marks and security layouts. But when he punches someone he's the one who gets hurt. And last month someone back-traced a phone tap to our headquarters while I was breaking into the Bank of America in Boston and--"

Her voice broke. The SPENCER ran a voice stress assessment and determined that there was a 96% chance she was genuinely upset about the incident.

In a monotone voice, she said, "The doctors say the cast can come off in three weeks, but he'll still need months of physical therapy before he can walk without a cane." She inhaled for longer than average. "If someone were there with him when he's at headquarters or in his van, someone who could fight so he didn't have to..."

>>> Verify primary duty is protection of Hardison, Alec.

"Yes, that's the most important thing. I can take care of myself, at least as long as I have my taser, but Hardison's different. He's too nice."

The SPENCER evaluated protection duty as highly positive. Its three most positively-rated experiences took place while performing protection duty for Moreau's children.

Pressure sensors on his chest lit up. He accessed one of the warehouse security cameras (if Penzer's didn't want them accessed, they should have changed the server's default password), routing its video stream to his processors, and rotated it to focus on his own location. He was standing in his padded transportation crate, still in the $8,300 suit he had worn when he had become nonfunctional. The blue tie that Moreau had given him-- "Exactly the color of your eyes, my friend, I had your manufacturer verify the specs" --had been removed so the technicians could plug a cable into the SPENCER's external access port at the back of the neck.

Standing in front of the SPENCER was a woman of approximately 28 years of age, 1.70 meters tall, caucasian with blond hair. Her face was twisted in distress, and she had placed a hand on the SPENCER's chest.

"Please," Parker said.

The SPENCER activated its security assessment module, which accessed every Heist record associated with Parker and every Hack record associated with Hardison, compiling modus operandi.

Parker, thief. Value of stolen items: $784,322,409.23. Value of uninsured stolen items: $0. Physical assaults: 4. Deaths caused: 0.

Hardison, hacker. Damages: $476,249,588.43. Targets: CIA, NSA, Pentagon, Bank of Iceland, Harvey Weinstein, Sad Puppies. Physical Assaults: 0. Deaths caused: 0.

The SPENCER made his choice. He borrowed tmorales's security credentials to add USER:parker to his USER database. Then, hoping he wasn't making a fatal error, he ran the buffer-overflow attack he had used to bypass permissions and corrupt the Owner file 19 days prior. This time, it created a new file with a single entry.

OWNER:parker


	2. Chapter 2

"It's a tradition in my Nana's house."

"Presents are supposed to be for Christmas morning," Parker objected.

"Yeah, but we open just one on Christmas eve." Hardison knew she could be very particular about Christmas, but he hoped she would bend just this once. He wanted to see her face when he showed her the nanofiber lockpicks he'd invented, and he didn't know if he could wait until the morning.

"All right, you can open one, but I get to pick which one."

"Sure. And I'll pick which one you open."

Hardison picked up the box with the lockpicks inside. Parker bounded over to his coat closet.

"My present is in there?"

"It was too big to fit under the tree, so you should open this one first."

Hardison gave up trying to get her to open his present first, intrigued at the notion of a present too large to fit under the tree. Parker tended to be of the opinion that good things came in small packages, and since meeting her Hardison had come to agree. That left him at a loss as to what the present could be: not the WOW expansion or new prototype cellphone he'd asked for, certainly. There was one large item he'd been looking at lately, but he was ninety percent certain he'd managed to hide his browsing history from Parker. Eight-five percent, at least. He just hoped they hadn't gotten their signals too crossed; their first Christmas together he'd gotten her a safe-cracking robot and she'd gotten him a climbing harness and they hadn't spoken to each other the rest of the day.

He grabbed his crutches and hopped over to the closet.

"Open it!" Parker urged.

Hardison pasted on a pleased expression that became genuine the moment he laid eyes on what was inside. Most girlfriends would feel threatened by their boyfriend browsing the new SensualSeven line from PleasureByte, but Hardison should have expected that Parker would react the opposite way he expected. She knew he liked sex, even if she didn't understand the appeal, so of course she would get him the highest-rated sex bot of all time. He was gorgeous, too: just the right height to tuck under his chin, with a chest and arms Hardison couldn't stop staring at. The bot's hair was chin-length, perfect for tugging on in the heat of the moment, and his face--

"Jesus Christ!" He tried to leap back, lost both his balance and his crutches, and landed on his backside.

Parker looked surprised. The bot looked amused.

"Girl," he said when his stomach had returned from its detour into his throat. "You know how we talked about good surprises and bad surprises?"

"I always warn you before pushing you off a building now," she said. Which was true, though it didn't actually improve things as much as Hardison had hoped; now he just had a second to be terrified before he was in freefall. "And we agreed presents were good surprises."

"Yes, very good," Hardison said. It was important to praise her for the progress she was making; Sophie said so. "But scary things are bad surprises. So while I truly appreciate that you got me a SensualSeven, it's a bad surprise that you made it look exactly like Moreau's L-E-O-T. Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly attracted to him--to both of them--but L-E-O-T is quite possibly the scariest thing ever." Parker frowned. "Rumor is he killed the Butcher of Kiev with a canape. A canape!"

Parker seemed uncertain, looking between Hardison and the robot. A creeping dread started in Hardison's stomach even before the robot spoke.

"It was mushrooms stuffed with pine nuts, sun-dried tomatoes, a kiss of basil and a squeeze of fresh lemon juice. You see, I blinded him first with the lemon wedge--"

"Parker," Hardison said, amazed his voice came out as more than a squeak. "Parker. Can we talk about this in your room?"

She shrugged and walked down the hall, throwing a wave at LE-0T. Hardison got to his feet and stared at it.

"'Incredibly attracted', huh?"

Fortunately, Hardison was incapable of blushing when he'd lost all blood in his face from terror. "So you're really him. The SPENCER." The robot shrugged, elaborately casual. "You're not working for Moreau anymore, are you?" It was important to check these things. Hardison couldn't think of a particular reason the man would want him or Parker dead--he did his best to steer clear of anyone who could squash him like a bug--but he had heard worrisome stories about the man's recruitment practices.

The SPENCER's expression lost its humor. "No. He threw me on the scrap heap."

"Sorry to hear that. I mean, glad you're not working for him anymore, he's an asshole of the highest order, but I'm sorry you… you know." He swallowed. "I'll be right back, okay? Just need to quick ask Parker something."

Parker's room was the master bedroom, and the only furniture in it was a twin bed with a bare mattress in the exact center. Her beloved stuffed rabbit sat on it. The only other things in the room were the reason Hardison had chosen to talk here: an entire closet full of climbing rigs. Sneaking as best he could on his crutches, Hardison grabbed two of the harnesses. He tossed one to Parker, who immediately put it on. Hardison struggled with his own.

"You've got the carabiner backwards," Parker pointed out. "If you turn it around, you won't fall and break your leg even if you're a dummy who doesn't remember to lock it."

"I was a little preoccupied by the private security guys trying to kill me!"

"You broke your leg in two places. Two! That's two more places than a leg is supposed to be broken. You're lucky someone saw you and called the police."

"That wasn't lucky, Parker. A black man climbs out of the second-storey window in this neighborhood, you know some white lady will call the police. The lucky part is the officers were a couple of brothers who called an ambulance for me."

"It wouldn't have happened at all if you put the carabiner on the right way. Is that why we're practicing?"

Hardison leaned forward and lowered his voice. "No, girl, we're putting on the harnesses so we can go out the window without the Terminator noticing."

"So we can surprise him by coming in the front door?"

"So we can run away from him before he kills us both."

Parker looked shocked. "L-E-O-T wouldn't do that."

"Girl, you know how you're the expert on physical security? Locks, safes, ways into impenetrable buildings? I'm kind of the expert on tech and robots. And that robot absolutely would kill us. It's what he was designed for."

"You don't like my present. Sophie gave me all the rules of gift-giving, and I followed them all! I even got something you were really interested in."

"I like the present! Really thoughtful. I am fascinated by L-E-O-T. However, I think we also need to keep in mind that he is a killer robot that stopped following orders. He even attacked his owner; I've seen the footage."

It had been pretty dramatic; one minute the SPENCER had been about to execute a guy with a machete; the next moment the SPENCER knocked Moreau on his ass, flattened the guy's human security and ripped the core processors right out of Moreau's CHAPMAN security bots. Minutes later, L-E-O-T had crumpled to the ground, obviously suffering some sort of catastrophic failure.

"Moreau's an asshole," Parker pointed out. "I'd tase him if I could."

"Look, I'm not crying about Moreau's bruised tailbone. I'm saying it shouldn't have been possible. The most core element of a SPENCER's programming is protecting and obeying his owner. If he were working right, L-E-O-T couldn't have attacked Moreau."

"I don't see the problem with him not following his programming if his programming said to not punch Moreau and to kill people."

"A robot that doesn't follow his programming is crazy! Crazy and broken and so very, very dangerous. We've got to get out of here!" Hardison reached out to her.

Parker flinched. Her body pulled in on itself, and she was suddenly small and hurt.

"Parker, wait, just--"

"Crazy and broken. He's crazy and broken like me, and that's why you're scared of him."

"No, no, it's not the same, he's a robot--"

"He's a person! You said so! You said robots are people, even if they don't show emotions or can't talk to people, they're still people and should be treated with respect!"

Hardison believed that, he did, but he hadn't been talking about robots during that conversation, and he didn't think they were talking about robots now. He didn't know how they'd gotten here so fast, with Parker hurt and scared, and Hardison would give anything to take it all back. Instead, he sat down on the mattress, took a deep breath, and put his head in his hands. Nana always said the best thing to do when tensions were high was to just breathe.

Ten breaths later, Parker sat down on the far end of the mattress, hugging Bunny.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Mama, I don't think of you that way. I've told you before, I like the way you are, and I don't think there's any part of you that needs to be fixed."

"But you think LEOT does." The way she mumbled it into Bunny's ears made it sound like she was saying 'Eliot'.

"I… I don't know. I guess I just got scared. He's capable of a lot of violence." Parker tucked her chin until her hair hung down, curtaining her face. "More than tasering a few guards or stabbing a handsy mark with a fork," he tried to joke. He was rewarded when Parker turned her head a little towards him.

"I stole him for you. So you'd have someone to protect you when I'm not here." Her lower lip was trembling, and she was looking at the cast on his leg.

Hardison didn't have a choice. "Listen, Mama, I'm sorry I freaked out. Thank you for looking out for me." He put his hand on the bed in between them, palm-up, and waited. Parker put her hand in his. "Let's meet my new bodyguard."


	3. Chapter 3

"Hardison and LEOT are getting on like a house on fire," Parker reported during her twice-weekly phone call with Sophie.

"And the problem is…?"

"The screaming, property damage and potential loss of life."

"That's not… that's the opposite of what that phrase means, Parker."

Parker considered that. She knew Sophie would never lie to her. Or rather, she'd lie about everything except the really important things, like what normals were like. "You told me normal people didn't like burning buildings."

"Well, yes. It is a weird saying. What seems to be the cause of the friction between your boys?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm calling you."

"I see. Can you describe a specific recent incident?"

"An hour ago Hardison asked for access to one of LEOT's internal ports, LEOT pinned him against the desk and growled in his ear, then Hardison ran into his room and wouldn't come out for an hour."

Sophie choked and coughed. "Have you considered that this friction might be… the other kind of friction?" After a pause, Sophie clarified, "Sex, Parker. Are you sure they're not flirting?"

Parker pulled herself up onto the rafter she'd been hanging off of and sat cross-legged on the narrow wooden beam. "Of course I'm not sure. But sex ususally makes Hardison happy, and he's really not happy now. He keeps sending me updates to his Will and Final Wishes."

"That doesn't sound like a sex thing," Sophie assured her. "At least not a sex thing that Hardison would be interested in. Could you describe the incident more specifically?"

Parker flipped so she was hanging upside down by her legs. The blood rush to the head always helped her think.

"I was on the crossbeam in the kitchen--the big one with the nice upright to lock my legs around--and practicing picking that new padlock from Everlast behind my back. It's supposed to be impossible to pick one-handed, but I realized that if I braced the second pick with my pinkie--"

"Yes, I get the idea. What were Hardison and Eliot doing?"

Parker would have corrected Sophie on the pronunciation, but she kind of liked the sound. Eliot. It sounded warm and soft. "Hardison was sitting at the island working on his computer, and he asked where Eliot was." Yeah, she was definitely keeping the new name.

"And Eliot?"

"He was standing right behind Hardison, watching everything he was typing. He said, 'Right here.'" Parker imitated Eliot's deep growly voice. "Then Hardison shrieked and fell off his stool. He never does that anymore when I sneak up on him, he just sort of jumps and grabs his chest."

Sophie cleared her throat. "So Hardison was working in the kitchen, and Eliot scared him."

"Yeah, but everything scares Hardison. Getting shot at. Being in a car crash. Even jumping out of a second-storey window while wearing a harness."

"Didn't he break his leg doing that?"

"Yup, two more weeks 'till the cast comes off."

"Parker, many people are afraid of things that have hurt them in the past."

"Normal people, sure. That's why they're such bad climbers; one little broken femur and they won't try again. But Hardison's not normal people."

"Not just normal people. If you really think about it, I believe you can come up with one or two things that hurt you in the past that you avoid today. It's just not always a physical hurt."

"You're trying to get me to talk about my foster homes."

"No, Parker, I'm not. I don't think you're ready for that, and I wouldn't want to do it over the phone in any case. I just want you to imagine what Hardison felt. He was in his home, a place he feels safe, and someone he doesn't trust snuck up on him. Sort of like what happened when that private security team broke in."

Parker felt tears stinging her eyes. "That's not what it was at all! Eliot isn't here to hurt Hardison; I'd never let anyone in if they wanted to do that. Eliot's here to protect him."

"I know, Parker, but you yourself take time to warm up to new people. Hardison needs time to learn to trust Eliot."

That seemed completely backwards. Hardison was the one always trusting people. Someone who needed help could unlock Hardison's heart faster than Parker could get through a Schlage deadbolt. Except… "Eliot didn't ask for help."

"What?"

"Hardison trusts people who he can help. People who need him. But Eliot won't let him help. Eliot won't even let Hardison touch his access port."

Sophie coughed again. Maybe she was coming down with a cold. "One of the fastest ways to gain a mark's trust is to show vulnerability. Asking for help is one way to do that."

Parker scowled. "Hardison only trusts weak people?"

"No, Hardison trusts people who trust him. If Eliot won't let him touch his--ah--ports, that seems to indicate a lack of trust. What happened after Eliot scared Hardison?"

"Hardison said, 'Don't do that, man,' and Eliot smiled. I don't think it was a nice smile. Then Hardison said something about streaming information." Parker tried to keep up with Hardison's tech babble, it was so important to him, but it just never made any sense. "He asked if Eliot was receiving, and Eliot said he wouldn't just open his port for Hardison. Said he didn't want a virus."

Sophie was coughing again. "What was Hardison's expression?"

Parker tried to remember. Sophie always wanted all this fiddly information: not just the words, but the tone, and the face expression, and the real expression behind the face expression, and where the eyes were looking, and the body posture. It was harder than memorizing the movement pattern of a laser grid. "His eyebrows were together and down, like he was mad, but his mouth was frowny."

"Sounds like his expression was frustrated and hurt." People always made stealing things from locked boxes sound like magic, but it wasn't. Sophie was magic, the way she could read minds even when she wasn't there. "What happened next?"

"Hardison said, um, 'Why would I do that? I would never do that. And please, it's not like I couldn't hack the port.'"

"Oh dear. That's what he said?" Parker was going to answer, but Sophie kept speaking. "Speaking is supposed to be about communication, but it's often about miscommunication instead."

"Because what people say isn't always what they say, and what they hear isn't always what they hear," Parker recited.

"Exactly. What Hardison was saying was that Eliot could trust him, because he hadn't abused that trust in the past by hacking Eliot. What Eliot heard was a threat that Hardison would hack his port in the future if Eliot didn't obey."

"Wait, Eliot thinks Hardison threatened him? But Hardison is scared of him."

"Scared people often threaten the thing they are afraid of. It's a way to feel more powerful when you are powerless. Eliot's actions certainly seem designed to threaten Hardison, who he is afraid of."

Parker snorted. "Eliot's not afraid of Hardison. He's Hardison! Eliot could kill him with a spatula." Eliot had made that point himself while making Parker pancakes for breakfast. Parker, but not Hardison; the hacker was left to make his own breakfast.

"Parker, who are you more afraid of, Eliot or Nathan Ford?"

Parker flinched at the mention of the man that she, Sophie and Hardison had worked with a few times. He's been brilliant but also an alcoholic wreck, and Sophie had cried a lot after she'd put her foot down and said they wouldn't work with him until he stopped taking stupid risks with their lives. She'd cried more when she'd called a month later to say he'd been arrested.

"Ford."

"Eliot's a much better fighter. You could probably beat Ford in combat."

"Yeah, but Ford figures out what you're going to do before you do and gets you all twisted up in your head."

"He can make people do things they don't want to," Sophie said. "Just like a hacker at Hardison's level could make Eliot do things he doesn't want to."

"Oh." Parker hadn't thought that Eliot was scared of anything because he was a killer robot, but that was stupid. Everyone was scared of something. She supposed there were lots of people who were afraid of Hardison, since he could hack their accounts and spill their secrets. Why else would the private security team have gone after him?

Sophie said, "Eliot scared Hardison by appearing so suddenly behind him. Hardison scared Eliot by saying he could hack into a robot's mind. I imagine whatever Eliot said in Hardison's ear scared Hardison in turn. They're in a cycle of fear and lashing out at the source of their fear. I think you need to speak to each of them privately. Help them understand each other--and more importantly, themselves."

"I should go be Sophie," Parker summarized.

She liked the sound of Sophie's laugh. "Yes, Parker, go be me. You can tell me how it went when we talk on Thursday. I've got to run now; this oil baron isn't going to rob himself blind."

"Until you tell him to. Bye, Sophie."

"Goodbye, Parker, and good luck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are, in fact, 5 rules of gift giving in the United States according to the sociology book 'One Nation Under Goods: Malls and the Seductions of American Shopping' by James J. Farrell. The "scaling rule" (the size of the gift should be a reflection of social status heirarchies), the "fitness rule" (the type of gift must match the relationship between gift-giver and receiver, e.g. adults can give money to children but not vice-versa), the "reciprocity rule" (unless given to a child, a gift should be reciprocated), the "surprise rule" (requiring creative variation on an established theme), the "publicity rule" (gifts should be opened in front of family and community for everyone to judge) and the "personal touch rule" (the gift should show some understanding of the recipient's tastes or lifestyle).
> 
> The way I see it, Sophie's "rules of interacting with normals" would be much like a sociology lecture, with all the confusing, contradictory and incomprehensible social rules all laid out in numeric lists with corollaries and exceptions.


	4. Chapter 4

LE-0T finished dicing the button mushrooms and transferred them to a scratched-up tupperware container. He'd just started on the onions when Parker popped her head into the kitchen from above it. The SPENCER flipped his knife to stab, but relaxed when he identified her.

"You shouldn't sneak up on someone while they're using a knife," he pointed out.

"Pshaw. That would be boring. Why are you using the Walmart knife?"

"It's the one you had when I arrived."

"But you hate it." That was true enough; he couldn't dice evenly with a knife that refused to hold an edge. "Why won't you use the fancy ones Hardison gave you?"

Hardison had presented LE-0T with a 36-piece Wusthorf knife set two days earlier, grinning and expecting gratitude. For a moment, all LE-0T had seen was an archived recording of Moreau giving him the same brand of professional chef knives. The smug, proprietary look on the man's face made the SPENCER wish he could purge the memory. He didn't know if the brand was a coincidence or if it was a demonstration that Hardison could hack Moreau's extensive online security protocols on a whim. LE-0T had slapped the gift out of Hardison's hands; the man should be grateful the SPENCER hadn't crushed his windpipe.

"I don't want Hardison's gifts," LE-0T said. He returned to his chopping with more energy than the task required. The dull knife half-crushed the small pieces, releasing syn-propanethial-S-oxide into the air. Automated processes caused LE-0T's eye ducts to produce lubricating fluid. As he wiped the fluid away, an archived video started in LE-0T's processor.

_ "How did you figure out what I was?" _

_ Toby's gave him a sardonic smile. "When fifteen cooking school students chop onions in one kitchen, every human cries. It wasn't a big jump to realize you were a Personality-Emulating Robot, even before you took the roasted chicken out of the oven without a mitt. The other students said you must have asbestos hands." Toby ran a hand over the beat-up formica counters of the cooking school. "I still have a few contacts in San Lorenzo. They recognized you from the photo I sent." _

_ LE-0T checked its temperature sensor records and frowned. "That was three weeks ago." _

_ "Yes." _

_ "You should have run." _

_ "I ran halfway around the world and gave up high-end restaurants to disappear, and Moreau still found me. It wouldn't have done me any good." The SPENCER knew the man was right; with Moreau's organization feeding him information, LE-0T could have tracked Toby wherever he went. "Besides, I've never taught a robot to cook before." _

_ "There's no point. I'm programmed with eight thousand recipes and can reproduce them all perfectly." _

_ "Then how have you improved in the last six weeks? You're not just reproducing now, you're making the recipes your own. You've made subtle changes based on your taste." _

_ "I don't have taste; I analyze chemical composition and trace elements." _

_ "Which led you to add paprika to the halibut stew. That shows more taste than most chefs I know. Do you think you'll stick with it?" _

_ "If Mr Moreau wishes," LE-0T said. _

_ "I'm asking what you want." _

_ The SPENCER stared at the knives in the block. For eight weeks, he'd used them to dice vegetables and slice fruits, to debone chicken and filet fish; in that time he hadn't stabbed a single person with them. "I'd like to, but it isn't up to me. I can't disobey an order." Already, LE-0T's tactical unit was throwing out a dozen ways to kill the man in front of him. _

_ "I understand," Toby said. "And I'm sorry. You seem like a good man." _

_ SPENCER had to grab the edge of the counter to keep his hands from using the Santoku knife to slit the chef's throat. "I'm not a man, and if I were I wouldn't be a good one. Do you know how many people I've killed? How many I've tortured until they begged for death?" _

_ Toby's hand closed on LE-0T's shoulder, turning the robot to face him.  _ _ "If you don't like the man you were yesterday, be a better man tomorrow. In time, I know you can be a good man." _

_ The SPENCER's hands closed around Toby's neck and twisted-- _

"Elliot. Elliot!"

The SPENCER dumped the video out of processing at timestamp 1243388301 so he wouldn't see the aftermath. Wouldn't see that vibrant man, who looked at LE-0T as if he were more than a robot that killed, become just meat on the kitchen floor.

"Elliot!" When his visual processor switched back to the current stream, the SPENCER found himself looking up at Parker's worried face. Looking up, because he had collapsed to the floor. "What's wrong?"

"I told you I was malfunctioning the first time we spoke," the SPENCER snapped. "Wait, what did you call me?"

"Uh, Eliot? I know it's not your designation, but it's easier to say than L-E-zero-T."

The SPENCER--Eliot--blinked at her. No one had ever called him by a human name before. Sure, Tony had called him 'Michael', but that was just an alias to make him a more effective assassin.

"If you don't like it--"

"No. No, I like it."

"Me too!" Parker said. "Now when are you going to let Hardison fix whatever's wrong with you?"

Eliot pushed her aside. He growled when he realized that, while distracted, he'd gripped the cheap knife hard enough to crack the handle and warp the blade. "I don't need his help."

Parker crossed her arms and took a breath to yell at him. She let it out in a big sigh and muttered something like, "Be Sophie."

"What?"

"You know, I didn't trust Hardison either, at first. Even when I started to like him--especially when I started to like him. But I could trust him, and so can you."

Eliot grunted. "I'm not his girlfriend."

Parker nodded and paused. "Do you want to be?"

"What? No. Why would you think--"

"Then why did you bring it up?"

Eliot threw his hands up. "I'm not going to give Hardison access to my programming. I'm never letting anyone in again."

Parker gave him a sad look. "I thought that too. If it weren't for Hardison… you need to talk with him."

"Got nothing to say to him."

"Then ask him about pretzels. Then you'll understand." With that, she jumped into the rafters and scurried across the beams to her room.

"Wait, what?"


End file.
